In honour of
by Kuri333
Summary: "In honour of John and Anna Bates son's 90th birthday this New Year's Eve, please consider answering these questions as if you were him." Q&A proposed by @adamsforthought, turned into a group of drabbles. Set after series 6, spoilers.
1. Name

**AN: This is an idea proposed by** _ **adamsforthought**_ **at "Anna and Mr Bates reading Room" on tumblr. There are 23 questions to ask "Baby" Bates in honour of his 90 birthday, which was yesterday. It's just brilliant.**

 **Instead of answering those questions, I've used them as prompts for small drabbles.**

 **I'd like to thank everybody at "Anna and Mr Bates reading Room" for being an amazing group of talented authors, and specially Terrie for the encouragement. I enjoy the stories very very much.**

 **Disclaimer: Not mine. Everything belongs to J. Fellowes. [I haven't read any of the answers posted on the site. If there's a coincidence, it's just that: a coincidence.]**

* * *

1\. Name

"Boy!"

He hears her from he is sitting, a book open on his knobby knees, and he knows he has to answer to his mother. Only, he can't. Just one more line. Just one small paragraph. He just needs to know what exactly is going to happen to the captain.

"Boy!"

He wants to answer. _In a minute, Mum._ He doesn't, as the vessel keeps its terrifying journey and the crew waits for their next encounter.

"William John Bates, will you come to supper?!"

He freezes. No matter how terrible the wrath of the sea creature can be, it will be nothing compared to her mother's use of his full name.

"Coming, Mum!" He cries. Remembering to put a finger between the pages, he takes the precious book he has borrowed in his arms and runs towards the cottage, the smell of baked pork and potatoes making him realise he is really hungry.

* * *

 _Prompt: We know your daddy would have opted to call you Kumquat but what is your real name?_


	2. Mother

2\. Mother

He was no longer a little boy. He did not belong to the nursery. But he missed it. He missed the other children: Sibbie, George, Maud and little Harry. Even Marigold, who would come to visit sometimes.

The one thing he missed the most was not that, though. He missed the walks.

He would doze off, probably, and she would come. He never really understood why it had to be this late, but never asked.

Mum's hand used to touch his head, softly, to wake him up. And then they would go downstairs. Sometimes they waited for Dad. Most of the times it was just the two of them. It was his favourite part of the day, walking home with her, his small hand clutching hers, telling her about what he had done that day, what they had played, what he had learned.

She had always a response that made him laugh, or a different way to look at things, or a story of her own.

Now that he was a big boy he wouldn't have to wait for her at the big house. He would go home from school and stay there.

"Good-bye, Mr Molesley," he says to the Master, but he is not listening. He is looking ahead, smiling, and William follows his gaze.

Mum is there. After his first day of school she is there. He walks calmly towards her. He wants to hug her, but the yard is full of other children and he doesn't want to look like a baby.

"So, boy," she says beaming. "Tell me. How was it?"

* * *

 _Prompt: Most special memory of your mother?_


	3. Father

3\. Father

He has been hiding since dinner was over, and he ashamed of it. His Mum always speaks about facing problems instead of running away from them, but he just can't. He doesn't know how this time.

"What is it lad?" Of course, he noticed, and came to find him.

"Are you a killer?" William bursts out before he can even think about the best way to ask.

His Dad looks up at the stars and sighs. "Why do you ask?"

"Jimmy, a boy at school... he said you've been in jail and all."

He nods. "I did. But I wasn't guilty." His Dad sits on the lower brick wall, carefully placing his cane against it. William sits next to him.

"So, you're not a killer?"

"You know I've been to war?" John Bates asks slowly.

"The Boers," William prompts.

"That's right. War awakens the worst of humankind. When I was there, I killed people. Enemies."

"Was Lord Grantham with you there? Is he a killer, too?"

"He was. But I want you to look past the word. It was about duty, about fighting for what you believed was right. King. Country. For some people even God."

William considers this for a moment.

"Do you still believe it was right?"

"I don't. But that's just me. While you grow up, you will have to decide this for yourself, over and over again."

He remembers this conversation of his 12 year-old self, when he comes back home to say good-bye before embarking to France. It's 1944 and he wishes he believe in what is about to happen as his father did during the Boers. He doesn't though.

* * *

 _Prompt: Most special memory of your father?_


	4. Accomplishment

4\. Accomplishment

"We will do this, you know." She said to them, taking his hand into hers and looking so much like her mother it scared him for a moment. "Whether you like it or not."

"Darling," he whispered, trying to stop her stubbornness from scaring them. Then he added, his eyes focused on her father's "We love each other and we want to start a family together."

Her mother just turned around, facing the window, while her father started asking questions. So many questions. And then, after a lot of discussion, some eyebrows raised, and reassurances of William's part, her father nodded and he thought he was the happiest person in the whole of mankind history.

He was wrong. He is so much happier today, as he holds her hands.

He takes a glance at the first rows of the small Downton Church and catches his Mum and hers exchange a glance. He's learned they have a language of their own, and sometimes he wishes he knew it. Not today, as their smiles are wide and there is, really, no need to decipher a thing.

"... I, Maude Violet Talbot, take thee, William John Bates…"

* * *

 _Prompt: What did you accomplish in your long life which you are most proud of?_


	5. Childhood

5\. Childhood

There were too many rooms. Some of them were out of bounds for all children. Most of them were out of bounds just for him.

The library was one of those rooms.

One day, though, without Nanny noticing, he ventured to wander outside the nursery, quiet as a mouse.

Down the hall, down the grand stairs. There he thought he was going to be spotted by one of the maids, but she kept on walking. He was downstairs, in the hall with all those coats of arms and colours, and then… his favourite room of the house, although he had barely had glimpses of it in the past.

William tiptoed his way through the door and stood in front of the shelves, feeling smaller than ever.

Has anybody ever read all those books? He walked towards one of the lower shelves and, with a tentative finger, reached to touch one of the spines.

"Jules Verne."

He almost jumped out of his skin with fright, and turn around to find himself in front of Lord Grantham.

"I- I'm so sorry," he stuttered, but his lordship was smiling.

"What brings you here, young William?" He didn't know what to say, so he stared at his own feet. "Do you like books?" He nodded. "Do you know how to read?"

This time William managed to look at him. "Yes… Dad has taught me… but I'm slow."

"Show me." Lord Grantham took the book William almost touched out of the shelf and opened it on the first page.

" _On 24 May 18…_ " He still had some trouble with numbers. _"1863, a Sunday, my uncle, Professor Lid… Lide…"_

" _Lidenbrock,_ " Lord Grantham read over his shoulder.

" _Lidenbrock,_ " William repeated with a smile, _"came rushing back towards his little house…*"_

"You're very good at it." William grinned with pride. "Do you see that book over there?" His lordship pointed at an open large tome with white pages. "Let me tell you something. If you want, you can borrow one of my books. But, you have to write your name in that book, and the title of the one you're taking."

William couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Really, m'lord?" He managed to remember how he was supposed to address George and Sibbie's Granddad.

"Really. I am counting on you to take care of those books. Can you do that?"

The boy nodded, too overwhelmed to speak, and looked at all the immense sea of pages that was no longer out of bounds.

"William," his Mum's voice made him jump for the second time that afternoon, and he had the feeling Lord Grantham had jumped as well. "I'm so sorry, m'lord. What do you think you're doing here?"

"It's all right, Anna. Young William and I have come to an understanding. Haven't we?"

William nodded proudly.

* * *

 _Prompt: What is your favourite childhood memory?_

 _*_ Jules Verne _, Journey to the Centre of the Earth_

 **AN: A little longer than the previous chapters, but I really wanted William to develop a bond with Lord G.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	6. Siblings

6\. Siblings

He remembers Mum telling him, once and again, he would be a big brother soon. At first he was very confused by it. Wouldn't he needed to be _older_ , like Sibbie or George for that?

Then Dad had explained he would have to take care of his baby brother or sister. That left him preoccupied. He had seen Nanny taking care of baby Harry back at the Abbey and it all looked so very difficult...

One night Aunt Daisy took him to spend the night at the farm. He enjoyed when he got to go there, but there was something different about this night; Mummy had kissed him just too many times, and Daddy had seemed to be distracted, pacing the room up and down. So, even though he had spent the afternoon chasing Aunt Daisy's dog, William didn't sleep a wink.

When Uncle Alfred took him back home for breakfast, there she was. So very small, wrapped in a soft blanket he's seen his Mum knitting some time ago.

"Say hello to your sister Emily, boy."

* * *

 _Prompt: Did/do you have any siblings?_


	7. Marry

7\. Marry

He had been away for more than a year. Almost two. Even though peace was supposed to begin in September, there was much to do and he volunteered to stay in France for a while, to help setting everything straight.

Finally, though, he was coming back. He could've called in advance, but he didn't really want the fuss. He would go home. He needed some peace and quiet. No more adventures, nothing to set his heart beating madly again. He had had enough of that for a lifetime or two.

He stepped out of the train in the small Downton station.

"William?" He turned around, half amused, half exasperated at having been recognised so instantly.

Something collided against his chest and a pair of arms was hugging him tightly. "Maude?"

"Why didn't you say you were coming, you big oaf?"

"What? I… I just didn't want to…" He stammered as she took a look at him. She had been good-looking when he had left her. Now, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, in a pale blue dress and a hat that, fortunately, didn't hide the way her eyes were shining.

"Now I'm off to London, and I won't be back until tomorrow, and we _really_ need to catch up properly, don't we?"

He nodded. "Tomorrow?" He managed to say. "I can be here tomorrow."

"You better be," she said, playfully pointing a finger at him.

As she stepped into the departing train and waved at him from the window, he felt his heart beating madly. He was on a different adventure now, and how he wanted to get into it with all his heart and soul.

Whatever the cost, he would marry Maude Talbot.

* * *

 _Prompt: Did you marry? Anyone we know?_


	8. Children

8\. Children

"But when, Daddy, when?"

"Any minute, now, sweetheart." Sitting on his shoulder, little Maggie is looking at the rails in the distance, bouncing every now and then.

"Just give them a couple of minutes," Maude said, almost bouncing herself.

School terms sometimes seem to drag on forever, he could hardly blame her.

"There!" Maggie's shrill forced him to take his eyes off his beautiful wife. Sure enough, white steam was visible and it wasn't long until the train was pulling up at the platform. "Where are they, where are they?"

"Maggie! You'll break your Dad's back if you keep on bouncing like that!"

"Mum! Dad!" A yell came from one of the couches, as two boys run from it. He let Maggie on the ground just on time to be hugged by what seemed to be like a double hurricane.

"All right, Dad?" A much calmer and hoarser voice and William felt his heart swell at the sight of his oldest boy.

"Did these rascals behave, Rob?" He said, giving him a hug.

He shrugged. "I've been sworn to secrecy."

"I hope he's joking." Maude said sternly to the twins. "Now, you two, help your brother get your cases and let's go home."

* * *

 _Prompt: Did you have children?_


	9. Staff

9\. Staff

At team time, Mummy or Daddy would come and fetch him from the nursery.

They would then climb down those very long stairs to the kitchens. The smell of cookies or cakes having been baked always lingered and William liked that very much. He would usually let go of her Mum's hand for the last steps and head into the kitchen at a run.

"None of that, boy, or you'll run over Alfred and then who'd save tea from disaster?"

"Sorry, Mrs Patmore. Can I have a biscuit?"

"They are on the table and off with you."

He doesn't reach the table, though. Next to the fire, on a low armchair, is the person he always hopes will join them for tea.

"Can I sit with you?" He knows better than to be scared of those eyebrows or the stern look. With a slow trembling movement, the old butler points at the empty seat.

"Certainly."

He sits in silence for a moment, balancing his short legs.

Mr Carson finally smiles. "What is it this time?"

William grins at this. He has his question ready.

"Tell me how it was when there were carriages pulled by horses instead of cars?"

* * *

 _Prompt: Of all the staff at Downton Abbey who was your favourite?_

 **AN: I want to thank you all for reading and reviewing! And special thanks to terriejane, for all the encouragement!**


	10. Food

10\. Food

"Why can't we have mince pies all year round, Mrs Patmore?"

"It'll take the fun of it! It has to be special."

"Besides," Aunt Daisy added, "you have food that's a lot like it all the time."

"No I don't."

"Yes, you do. Do you know what's inside a mince pie?"

William thinks hard. He's usually too excited about eating them to think about it. "No…" he says slowly.

"More or less the same that's inside a fruit pie."

He has to think about it. "You're lying. There are raisings in a fruit pie."

"And so there are in a mince pie."

"What?" He is horror-struck. This can't be. "You're joking!" Raisins. The most terribly horrible thing there is? Inside a mince pie?

"Well," Mrs Patmore laughs, "you'll have to wait 'till next Christmas to see we're not."

* * *

 _Prompt: What was your favourite food as a child? Your least favourite?_


	11. Activity

11\. Activity

They just enjoy doing it, when the weather is nice and Dad has some time off to come along. He can't remember the first they went fishing to the pond. It's something they've always done, since he could barely hold the rod.

It's not about fishing either, really, even though they are really proud whenever they manage to catch something to bring back home for Mum to cook.

Fishermen are quiet folk, but they are not proper fishermen. They talk. A lot.

Sometimes William will do most of the talking, telling him about the games in the nursery and, later on, school, his friends and what he was learning. Sometimes he would ask questions, about how Downton was when he had first arrived, about the war, about everything he could think of.

Dad can't run like the other Dad's he sees, picking up their kids at school. He won't play cricket either, or ride a bike. But this, sitting on the wooden deck, pants and sleeves rolled up while waiting, this is their thing and he wouldn't change it for the world.

* * *

 _Prompt: What was your favourite childhood activity?_


	12. Hotel

12\. Hotel

Sometimes they'd mention it and, with time, William understood this had much more meaning than just the word; it was a steady joke of sorts between his parents. One day he asked his mother about what it really meant.

"Hotel?" She grinned and looked outside the window with a smile. "That's an old idea your father and I once had."

"What was it about?"

She keeps on scrubbing the pan for a moment before turning around to face his son.

"At some point, we thought it would be nice to leave service and buy a hotel to manage."

William opens his eyes wide. "Leave Downton?"

She nods, and turns back to her cleaning. "We didn't as you see."

"I'm glad," the fourteen-year old says with emphasis. "Only, why didn't you?"

"This and that," she says dismissively. "Plenty of things were happening back then. War was one of them. And afterwards…" she sighs, and William realises they are talking about his father being in jail. She continues, in a happier voice. "When everything got back to normal, we realised we didn't needed it. We were as happy as anybody could be, happier even, without having to go away and get ourselves a handful of new concerns."

"So what does it mean when you say to Dad 'let's get a hotel, then'?"

"It's just a reminder, to both of us, to be grateful because we're happy."

* * *

 _Prompt: Did your parents ever buy their hotel?_


	13. Book (I)

13\. Book (I)

"So, young William, what's the verdict?"

He looks at the closed book on his lap, and then at Lord Grantham, sitting right across of him in the library. "Well… it is rather good."

"'Rather good'?" his Lordship sounds outraged. "Boy! That's one masterpiece you're holding there."

"I know it is, and I liked it, truly…" he trails off.

"But…"

"But it's just too far-fetched."

At this, Lord Grantham laughs. "It's supposed to be far-fetched. Or are you intending to go to the moon any time soon?"

William laughs. "Of course not, your Lordship. What I mean is I like them better when they talk about stuff we recognise. Or that we might see in real life."

"Such as?" He arches an eyebrow.

William beams.

" _Around the world in eighty days.*_ "

* * *

 _Prompt: What was your favourite book as a boy?_

* Again, by Jules Verne (1873)


	14. Book (II)

14\. Book (II)

' _Give her hell from us, Peeves.'_

 _And Peeves, who Harry had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.*_

William cackled, stifling the sound with his wrinkled hands.

Carefully he went back to the children's room. It had been once the twins' room, many years ago. Now, three of his own grandchildren were fast asleep, and he needed them to remain so. Moving slowly, he put the book back on Michael's night-stand, careful to place it exactly the way the boy had left it hours ago, when he had read it aloud to them.

It was cheating; he had promised he wouldn't go ahead of them.

And, it would take some effort to look surprised the next day, when they reach that Portable Swamp part. A Portable Swamp indeed. William went outside, still stifling a laugh, and closed the door.

"You did it again, didn't you?" Standing in the hallway, Maude was frowning, and trying her hard not to look amused.

* * *

 _Prompt: After such a long life, what is your favourite book now?_

* J.K. Rowling (2003) _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_ , p 595.

AN: Small homage to my own favourite book. Thanks you all for reading!


	15. Hair

15\. Hair

The breeze moves the grass in waves and it's sound is soothing. All around them the scents of a golden autumn engulf their senses.

He is glad of the bit of privacy being so far from the house brings them. They are walking together after having met at the village; he is happy there is nobody in sight.

"You sure you're not cold?" he asks Maud.

"I'd tell you if I were."

He chuckles. Of course she would.

"You know," she says happily, "with the sun so low, your hair looks almost ginger."

"I'm not ginger."

"I didn't say you are. It just looks like that. Blame the sunset."

He looks at her; blame the sunset indeed. He might look ginger. She, on the other hand, looks stunning.

"What?" She asks; he is standing still, just staring. She walks back and stands right in front of him.

He takes a lock her dark hair between her fingers. He wants to say so much, to make the moment perfect, but words fail him. William is sure Maude is holding her breath, he takes courage from it.

He gets closer, and right before closing his eyes, he sees her lips are parted. William will never be sure who closed that smallest of distances, before those lips meet his.

* * *

 _Prompt: What colour was your hair at twenty?_


	16. Occupation

16\. Occupation

"Mother wants me to take over," George says, taking a long drag off his cigarette. He looks thoroughly downcast.

"You knew all along she would," William says. "She always talks about Downton being your responsibility, about you being in charge of passing it on…"

"I hear enough of that from her, thank you."

William grimaces sympathetically.

"It's not that I don't _like_ Downton, I do. But I think… I don't like to be the one who manages it so it becomes my life." Georges continues, looking at the outline of the large house, barely visible through the mist.

"It is your life," William retorts. "I'd love to be in your place. I love this place, I just… I think it has to be preserved, and we are to do our best to ensure that, and of course that means work but then, it is a responsibility that goes beyond- why are you staring at me?"

"That's it! You're the solution!"

"What?"

"You'll be the state manager!"

"Oh no. Listen, George, I just came back from the front. I'm not ready."

"You'll learn. She's not retiring _yet_. There's some time. I'll talk to Mother!" And he throws the stub of his cigarette, turns around and walks swiftly towards the house.

William stares at him until the mist makes it impossible to recognise him. Then he heads to the cottage he calls home. His heart is beating madly. It's so wild and idea, so crazy…. so marvellous.

He loves Downton as if it was his family.

* * *

 _Prompt: What was your occupation for the better part of your life?_


	17. Proud

17\. Proud

He is tired. It has been a tiresome season, and with increasing frequency, he finds himself after sunset, sitting at the desk inside what he now calls his office, looking at numbers, maps or letters. The new economic measures have had a terrible effect on large states.

Sometimes William wakes up in the middle of the night, wondering if they will survive this time, as he has learn Downton always has.

The sound of uneven, slow steps makes him look up.

"Am I bothering?"

"You never are, father."

He enters and stands right in front of his son's desk. "I was walking up the road and saw the light on. Isn't it time you'd be home with your wife?" His father's tone of voice is teasing, but he knows there is some truth his words.

"And shouldn't you be with yours?" William smiles.

John Bates chortle. "You see, she is the one who sent me to talk to you. So, yes and no."

William sighed and, with an air of finality, closed the book in front of him. "You're right. And she is too, by the way."

"About what?"

He stands up. "Whatever she might have told you to tell me. I know. She's right."

At this his father laughs heartily. "I'll make sure to tell her you said that."

William smiles. "Let's go then."

* * *

 _Prompt: Do you think you've made your parents proud of you?_


	18. Photo

18\. Photo

It was very warm and his collar felt stiff, hard against his neck.

Mary had insisted on engagement pictures and Maude had agreed. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but after almost an hour of sitting in the small London studio, her backs straight and trying their best not to crumble their clothes, he was getting edgy.

He was sure the pictures were getting worse by the minute, spontaneous smiles having long been replaced by dry, rehearsed ones, void of all meaning.

William looks at the picture in his hands. He remembers all that; he is sure he can even recall the strange stench of the place. Chemicals, lights, sweat. But, for the life of him, he can't remember the joke.

Maude is laughing, a burst of laughter he can replay in his head, looking straight at the camera with bright eyes. He is laughing, too, and looking at her. Their postures are no longer stiff, but relaxed, and it looks so very real. Just like photographs these days, with mobile phones and those crazy sticks.

This is his favourite picture. That moment of abandonment, when the photographer had uttered that long forgotten joke and they have allowed themselves to be just that, William and Maude, happy and alive.

* * *

 _Prompt: Show us a photo of yourself at 25, if you have one._

AN: The story and the picture in which I based this are very much real. It was my grandparents'.


	19. Memory

19\. Memory

"One, twwo, twee, five-"

"No, no, you forgot four!"

George is so very tall, he a big boy and he knows a lot of things. If he says he forgot four, then he must have forgotten it.

"He's learning!" Sibbie says. "Come on, Will, again." She puts the small wooden cubes on the carpet. "One…"

William takes them carefully, and orders them in a row next to the foot of Sibbie's bed.

"One, twwo, twee, five-"

"No, no!" Now George is laughing. William laughs too.

"You're doing it on purpose," Sibbie accuses him. William just nods. The bigger children laugh again and he feels like he's a big boy too.

* * *

 _Prompt: What's the earliest memory that you have?_


	20. Dream

20\. Dream

"Why wouldn't he at least try it?" He is brandishing a journal, opened at a page of medical advertisements.

Anna looks at his son, a good head taller than her, and smiles. There is a little bit of sadness in that smile.

"What makes you think he hasn't tried it yet?"

"When?"

"Many years ago. When he has first being hired as Lord Grantham's valet. He wanted to prove he could do the job. So he got this device, supposed to fix his leg. Only it didn't and it made it all so much worse for a while." She is lost in her own memories and William, even though he's eager, doesn't want to interrupt. "He told me about it years later. And got a piece of my mind."

"That was years ago. Now there's a lot of new stuff."

"I know."

"So you don't want him to try and fix that limp?"

"Of course I would, theoretically."

"Then what's-?"

"Listen. He goes regularly to see doctors. He's always looking into it. And the most probable outcome is that it'll never be fixed. What I want more than that leg working properly is for him to be happy. Not to suffer in silence for our sakes, or because he's too proud or too stubborn."

William sighs and hunches a tad. His mother puts a comforting hand on his arm.

"Trust me. Your father doesn't suffer as much as you do because of it. Let's not let him see that it affects you, too, all right?"

* * *

 _Prompt: A dream you always wanted to accomplish._


	21. War

21\. War

It never shows it the pictures, people hardly speak about it. But war is a lot about waiting. Waiting to be recruited, or, if you volunteer, to be accepted. Waiting for your training to finish. Waiting to be assigned. Waiting to do some actual fighting. Waiting to go home.

When he dreams about war it's hardly the deafening sound of guns, or the cries of despair.

It's usually that painful waiting of a silence that rings inside your ears. Your mind is full of all the sad, broken memories of your past life, but you're oddly detached from it all, as if life before war had been a dream and the bases and bunkers the only possible reality.

Sometimes the silence is broken by an order, a prayer, a crude joke.

Nothing takes the dread away, though. He might die. The man next to him might die. The one next to him might be crippled for life. The one next to him could end up too broken from it all that his life would lack all meaning.

It's not noise or action he remembers, but dull, terrifying passiveness.

* * *

 _Prompt: Did you go to war? If you did, tell us one of your most revived memories from it._


	22. In touch

22\. In touch

They have managed to get along with everybody. Maude would chat with his mother for hours, and he really likes the way their laughter would mix together. Sometimes his wife would ask Anna to reveal her mother's secrets but they've learn to know it's really a game of sorts. Mother just refuses, with sparks in her eyes and a knowing smile.

He, on the other hand, gets along fairly well with his in-laws. There is always something stern-looking about Lady Mary, but he knows she has a heart of gold… and she just spoils her grandchildren to no end. Maude's father has always been friendly, but the one he liked the most, the one he misses the most is the late Lord Grantham. He knows his father misses him, too. His retirement after his Lordship's death was not easy.

They don't really mix, though. His mother keeps on being Lady Mary's maid, even though both are old and fashions nowadays do not require much assistance. They would sit under a tree and talk, or stay in companionable silence for long hours at the time. When in public, his mother still calls her m'lady, but both Maud and he suspect they're on a first name basis in private.

* * *

 _Prompt: Did you keep in touch with the Crawleys/Talbots?_

AN: So sorry for missing my self-imposed update date. This chapter was the hardest to write. I really honestly have no clue of what sort of relationship would come after the son of life-long servants would marry the daughter of the Lady, sister of the future Earl. :)

The description of Anna and lady Mary is inspired in one beautiful one-shot: "Passing time", by By My Pen.


	23. Lesson

23\. Lesson

He grimaces at his image. He has done this so many times, flawlessly, but today… today of all days it comes out crooked. Lightly to the right. Then slightly to the left. Then the height is not right. Then-

A soft knock on his door followed by a "can I come in?"

"Sure, Dad."

This days he seems to be leaning more heavily on his cane, but his eyes are sparkling and he's beaming.

"Ready?"

"Yes… no…" William gives the knot of his tie another go. "You'd think I'll have this figured out by now."

Without a word John Bates stand in front of his son and takes the tie on his fingers.

"Anything I should know? Besides the tie?"

His father chuckles. "Well... every marriage is different. And when you're happy, you know yours is the best."

William smiles, wondering if Maude would be ready by now and what would her dress look like.

"You'll be a team, now." His father carries on. "If you want some advice, this is the one I'd give. Never forget there is two of you now. Work as a one, fight as one, and be happy as one."

He clears his throat and gives William a pat on the shoulder. "Perfect. Now hand me a brush."

* * *

 _Prompt: One thing you learned from your parents is?_

 **AN:** And all the prompts/questions are over! Thank you very very much for reading this.

There will be a bonus chapter, an epilogue of sorts, very soon. Cheers!


	24. Epilogue

24\. Epilogue

 _December 31st, 2015._

"Didn't you want to go somewhere else? Do something different?"

"But I did." William smiles affectionately at his youngest granddaughter. "We got our share of travelling, your grandma and me. Even lived in New York for a while."

"But you've always came back to Downton."

He looks at the twenty-years old bright blue eyes. "I have."

"Why?"

"Well, why do _you_ want to work here, then?"

Anna looks out the window. The bright white snow covers the feels and the branches of the trees, but in her mind's eyes she can see them, or covered with fresh leaves, or full with fruit. She knows every one of those trees.

"I love it in here. I think... when I get in the house, even though it's not really a house anymore... it feels alive. Full of memories and stories. And I feel as if I'm part of it somehow. Of course," she shrugs, "I'm not a Crawley."

"You don't need to be one." He pats her small hand with his large, wrinkled one. "There's been many of us living here, dreaming and making things happen. And that's why you feel as if the place belongs to you somehow. Because you belong to it, too."

She nods. "I know it's just an internship. But I'd like this to work."

William smiles fondly at his younger granddaughter. "You use that heart of yours, and the brain over there, and it will."

* * *

 **AN:** Thank you all very, very much! Terriejane, thanks a heap for the encouragement and the fantastic reviews!


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